


If at First We Don't Succeed

by MissImaginary



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissImaginary/pseuds/MissImaginary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Multiple chapters, slowly exploring the relationship of Erik and Charles from beginning to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

An intriguing thing, books. The words never changed, Charles knew, yet he could invest hours on a book, on a page if he was feeling particularly focused. He was an avid reader; sometimes it was as if the pages themselves, crisp or worn—it mattered little-- would call to him in his mind. He had that sort of itch with a lot of things, really.

Which was why at a little after two in the morning, he found himself in the sitting room, with a book titled _A Black Swan: Inheritance and the Genome Re-Evaluated_ sitting in his lap. It was a personal favorite of his, studied and memorized to the point that the massive text had become almost a bedtime story, with its familiar insights and bold statements.

The castle felt peaceful at this hour. There weren’t shouts of, “Sorry, professor!” after hearing a crash or the odd tug at his mind when Alex or Hank or Sean had successfully pushed themselves beyond their limits, as he liked to encourage. Instead, a warm hum of wandering thoughts surrounded him as others slept. He enjoyed it. It made him feel decidedly less old.

The more he thought, the less he found himself reading as his eyes became unfocused on the words in front of him. While the castle was quiet, it wasn’t completely silent. There was still one very alert presence not far away and Charles didn’t have to explore it further to know who else was awake at the hour.  
Charles stroked the page of the next chapter, _Transmutations in Children_ , before folding the corner at the top and pressing the book shut. He focused on the familiar presence again, his eyes losing their focus as they had before and his fingers pressing to his temple. _Friend, if you’re very much awake, I have a fine bottle of scotch and an unfinished chess game with me in the sitting room._

The reply was almost instantaneous and it brought a smile to his lips. _I figure you already knew I was awake. Has your mutation made you so lazy that walking to my room would have been too much a hassle? Give me a minute._

Charles busied himself with pouring both Erik and himself a glass of whisky, aged to its peak and divinely woody, he thought. The tip of his tongue buzzed lightly, hungry for a taste of something, and he wandered to the coffee table for a cube of dark chocolate. The first bite, refreshingly bitter and smooth, was enough to satisfy him for the moment. Time seemed to pause for that instant, which happened often enough when he was thoroughly enjoying something, and he welcomed the serenity that came with something so delightfully trivial.

“Chocolate?” Charles asked as the oak door opened behind him. He turned to see Erik standing in navy sweats, completely still in the door way. His back was straight, so much so that it made him appear a bit taller and Charles tilted his head at him. It was as if Erik was not looking at him but through him and it was somewhat unsettling.

“My friend, chocolate?” he asked again and this time Erik looked much more focused, much more present than he had a moment before.

“Ah, no, I don’t eat it. Thank you.” And Charles found that tidbit fascinating in itself, because few disliked the confection, yet he wasn’t terribly surprised either. If Erik had to be put into a category between the many and the few, well. It was the same for all of them, in that respect.

“Scotch, then?” Because he’d been raised to be a good host, and a good host should not quit until the guest was properly tended.

Erik quirked his lips and Charles handed him the glass he had just poured before grabbing his own glass and making his way to the chess set. Erik followed.

“I believe it was your turn,” Charles said and began to sip at his drink. The game continued without hesitation and they spoke little, at first. It was never awkward but instead comfortable and Charles took great pleasure in it. He especially liked watching Erik process. Each time Charles moved his bishop, which was tailing both Erik’s rook and his knight, Erik’s brow would crease and he would lean forward just slightly. His hand would lightly grip the arm of his chair, tap his fingers once, twice, and then his eyes would begin to scan the board for possibilities. It was a gratifying experience, to find Erik so entranced in one of their games. Often times, Erik only played to satisfy Charles and to give him an opportunity to discuss pressing issues.

Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles, who was shamelessly staring at him.

“Are you sticking your mind somewhere it shouldn’t be, Charles?” And while with most people that would sound accusing, with Erik it sounded teasing and friendly. Charles grinned broadly.

“Why, my friend, I wouldn’t. I simply could not. Well, I could, naturally, but I simply would not. Cheating? I’m aghast at the thought.” Charles leaned forward and lowered his voice, murmuring in a rather conspirator-like manner. “Although you always find yourself tempted to make such positively aggressive moves, Erik; you’re so very forward.”

Erik moved his knight and captured one of Charles’ pawns.

“It seems to work with you.” Erik’s smile was smug, as if he’d just proved something and Charles couldn’t help but feel warm. Then he proceeded to take Erik’s knight with his rook.

One thing Charles didn’t like about playing chess with Erik was how sportsmanship kept him out of Erik’s mind. He would be forced to scrap the game, a compromised mission, so to speak, if he accidentally glimpsed his companion’s strategy. But he was terribly fond of connecting with Erik that way. More so than anyone, really, because Raven detested any sort of intrusion and he would not stoop so low as to invade his childhood friend’s mind for mere pleasure.

Erik, on the other hand, rarely objected. He always seemed amused or intrigued or exasperated at the worst. Charles supposed that the only explanation for it was trust. Or fondness. He also supposed that was why he took so much pleasure in doing it.

“Has Cerebro left you unfocused, Charles?”

Charles knew the tone for concern, well-disguised in Erik’s typical nonchalance.

“No, just thirsty.” He brought the whisky to his lips, taking a slow but long sip. Erik met his gaze and raised his own glass to his lips. Neither seemed to want to break the contact, with each other or the drinks they were nursing, until Erik had finished and his eyes returned to the board.

“More?” Charles still had a bit left in his glass but wouldn’t mind topping it off while he was up.

“Later,” Erik murmured; his focus back on the game.

Charles hummed, fingering the rim of his glass absently. Perhaps he wasn’t as interested in chess tonight as he had thought. And to think, Erik seemed intensely into it.  
Erik moved a piece and then reclined in his chair. “It’s late,” he said casually.

“Are you tired?” Charles asked, although he knew Erik wasn’t, could tell by how wide his eyes were and how active his mind was, despite not having dipped into it to see just what was going on.

“No. You seem it, though. You’ve been pushing yourself every day with that machine.”

“I’ve been… persistent. It’s incredible. Hank’s outdone himself with Cerebro. We can access the world with enough practice, my friend, the world. All of the people out there who think they’re alone, who feel that they’re without purpose, we can teach them. We can train them and develop their skills.” Charles’ eyes were bright and he suddenly looked more his age. He always looked this way when he spoke of the future.

“Or they can tell you to ‘go fuck yourself.’” Erik retorted, clearly still amused by the incident.

Charles waved his hand dismissively. “If I had a nickel for every time someone’s said something like that to me—“

“I think you do.” Erik looked around the expensively-furnished room pointedly.

Charles huffed but the corners of his lips were turned up.

“I mean, if we’re including all of the well-bred university girls you’ve tried to pick up, then we can account for the entire mansion.”

Charles attempted to glare at Erik but the effect was lost when he gave in to a small chuckle. “You’ve been talking to Raven.”

“Here and there,” Erik confirmed with a smirk. “I’ve heard a few stories. Reel them in with talk of mutations. And how well does that work?”

Charles shrugged, suddenly finding a renewed interest in the game as he studied the board. “I’m a shameless flirt when I’ve had a few, is all; nothing out of the ordinary about it. I see a pretty girl and I tell her so.”

Erik’s smirk grew wider by the moment. He set his glass down on the end table beside him and leant back, gesturing at him. “Go on, then. Let’s hear it.”

Charles’ head snapped up. “Pardon?”

Erik suddenly looked indulgently pleased, the way one does after they’ve eaten a particularly rich meal, and Charles remembered this mischievous side of Erik from a memory he’d seen of his childhood. His expression matched that of a very young Erik, probably four or five, who hid in the cupboards while his mother was doing dishes only to pop out at her, hugging her legs and grinning up at her.

“The line, Charles; you must be a charmer. Give me a sample.”

 _I’ll bet you’re all dashing smiles and convoluted compliments, aren’t you, Charles?_

Charles ducked his head and chuckled bashfully, rubbing his palms over his khakis. “Erik, if you’re thinking particularly loudly, I may, at times, pick up a stray thought here and there, despite my best intentions and—Erik?”

Charles turned his head, finding himself face-to-face with his friend who was crouched down next to his chair. Green eyes stared at him in interest.  
“What I’m really curious about is when Charles Xavier the Professor becomes the Charles Xavier who flirts and chases skirts.”  
Charles stared back at Erik for a moment, perfectly still, until he suddenly leaned forward. Their faces close to touching, Charles murmured earnestly. “You have absolutely magnificent eyes, Erik.”

Erik blinked once, twice, the muscle in his throat flexing as he swallowed. Charles continued with exuberance, all teeth and large hand gestures. “While many genes are attributed to eye color, since the variations are so complex, I have an inkling that your particular shade is attributed to the EYCL one gene, which would account for the almost blue hue your eyes take on in the light. They’re light because of the low amount of melanin, as you may know, but what is truly fascinating about them is just how complex they are. Multiple, I mean really many genes were involved to produce such a unique shade. Are they celadon, maybe? It’s hard to tell, depending on how you move your head, see. But really, that in itself proves just how absolutely stunning your eyes are Erik.”

Erik’s lips parted slightly as Charles finished, only a few inches away from their noses touching. “Oh,” Erik breathed.

 _I’ll admit, now is when I would usually begin probing around a little to see my reception. See if maybe I should change my approach or go in for the kill._

Erik’s eyes closed briefly before he gripped the arm of Charles’ chair, pushing himself up. “And this time?”

Charles chuckled warmly, tilting his head back to look up at Erik. “I think you may be on to me, my friend. Perhaps I should have waited until you were properly intoxicated.”

Erik joined in on the laughter although just briefly. “There’s nothing proper about that.”

And suddenly playful Erik is gone. His back is turned to Charles, refilling his glass. Charles stared at his back, waited. Counted heartbeats. At the sixth, he placed his glass on the metal coaster beside him. It clanged quietly, as if shy and uneager to interrupt.

Erik, would you mind? And without turning around, Erik lifted his hand, the coaster steadily floating across the room and into Erik’s palm, glass settled on top.

“Your control has improved noticeably, my friend. Everything you do looks effortless.”

Erik turned to face him then, both glasses filled to the brim. “Yes, if only one’s efforts actually mattered.”

The glass floated back to Charles with the coaster beneath it and he hurried to grab it, unsure as to whether he should smile or frown.

“My friend?” Charles’ mind itched, already reaching out in the direction of the man who was standing on the far side of the room, but he quenched it. He shook his head as if he could toss out the urge, blinking hard.

“Leave it,” Erik spoke quietly, warningly. But he also sounded fatigued, Charles noticed.

“Erik, if I might—“

“Charles.” And this time, the voice was hard and the word a statement that left no room for coaxing.

“Right, no, I was simply wondering if you wished to continue the game tonight or retire and resume it tomorrow, perhaps?”

The stiffness in Erik’s shoulders loosened just a bit and he nodded, already walking towards the door. “Just remember it’s your move.”


	2. Chapter 2

Breakfast was never entirely uneventful, Erik noticed. There was always chattering and laughing and a particular type of foolhardiness that Erik was certain did little in preparation for their training. Morale, maybe? Or just a general feeling of comradery, he supposed, was useful. 

  


_They’re kids, Erik._ The fondly exasperated voice that seemed to linger in his head more and more frequently.

  


  
Erik lifted his head to look at Charles, who was sitting across from him but not looking at him. Instead, Charles was in casual conversation with Hank, who was looking very much like he was speaking with a childhood idol, wide eyed and nodding vigorously.

  


  
Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles, quirking his lips. _Charles, hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to invade the privacy of someone’s mind while at the breakfast table? Especially while your attention is so clearly divided._

  


  
Charles chuckled and Erik wasn’t quite sure whether he was laughing at him or at something Hank at said. Charles patted Hank’s shoulder before turning to face Erik directly. He was cutting up pieces of his egg and chewing leisurely, taking small sips of his tea, buttering his toast, all while staring at Erik. 

  


  
Erik cleared his throat, picking up his mug and swallowing nearly all of the bitter liquid inside it. When the gaze continued without any sign of breaking, Erik set down his fork and wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “Was something on my face?”

  


  
_I would just hate for you to think me rude, my friend. You have my utmost attention._   


  


_  
_“A bit of egg, I think. It’s gone now.” Erik snorted and got up from the table. When he reached the doorway, he called out, “I’m going for a jog,” without looking back.

  


  


“He’s always so moody,” Sean muttered, chewing on a slice of bacon with his mouth half open. Bits were falling onto his plate.

“Don’t think you’d say that to his face though, would you?” Alex grinned next to him and Sean nearly choked, shaking his head.

“Are you clinically insane? No, I don’t think anyone would.”

  


  


“Professor would,” Hank suggested helpfully.

  


  


“No, Charles likes him too much and anyway, he’s too nice to say anything like that to anyone,” Raven supplied.

  


  


Charles leaned forward a bit, turning to look at the students he was supposed to be training. “I’m sitting right here, you realize?”

  


  
Sean dropped the rest of his bacon, eyes wide. The rest merely looked contrite.

  


  
Erik was panting so hard he thought he might hyperventilate, hunched over and supporting himself with his hands just above his knees. Six miles in, maybe, he felt the pleasant ache in his sides turn into sharp jabs but he kept running. Sweat rolled down in drops down his face and his throat burned in dryness. 

  


  
This made sense. This was comfortable. That desperation, that pounding in the head and ribcage: all a reminder that yes, still alive; yes, still a purpose; yes, keep going.

  


  
He seemed to be the only one who felt that way here. They didn’t grasp the severity of what they were doing. They didn’t seem to realize that their lives were hanging by a thread, that people wouldn’t just _dislike_ them but would _loathe_ them in a way that only Erik fully understood. Only he knew how much hatred—the kind that was venomous, spiteful, and revulsive—could fuel a person to do damnable things. Because he had it too: that hatred. It was like an anchor in the pit of his stomach, dense steel that weighed him down and kept him from floating. He knew their enemy, had faced them before with different uniforms and in a different place. He had won a few battles, too, but lost so much in doing so.

  


  
This wasn’t what he needed. He didn’t need Charles offering him fine alcohol, didn’t need his wise words and his nightly games. He needed to do a lot of things and none of them were going to come to fruition here, in a mansion with soft, ignorant teenagers and an idealistic— He paused for a moment, the incessant throbbing in his temples lessening to a dull ache. The ringing in his ears quieted. Silence. Charles.

  


  
_Go on, then. Idealistic and what else? I’d say dashing but I might be bias._   


  


  


Erik grunted, letting out the breath he’d been holding for what seemed like minutes but was probably only seconds and stared up at the sky. _Do you really do nothing else but listen in on people’s private thoughts?_

  


  


  
  
_They were hardly private, with how loudly you were thinking. I could hear them from inside. But perhaps you’re right. I should probably mind my own business._   


  


  


Erik hummed in agreement, kicking at the gravel beneath his feet.

  


_However,_ Erik groaned, _I listen because I worry. My friend, I wish you would share these troubling thoughts with me. You are not alone, Erik._  
Erik didn’t respond, focused on keeping his mind clear of the biting remarks that were so often at the forefront of his mind.

  


  


  
_You don’t have to hide yourself from me. I know you. You promised me we’d finish our game tonight, if I recall correctly._   


  


  
Erik rolled his eyes but could feel the corners of his lips turning upwards. _Yes, I remember._ He took off again, this time running towards the mansion instead of away from it.

  


  


At dinner, the children were eerily quiet. Every time Charles attempted to start up conversation, one and two word answers were given. Erik sort of liked it.

  


  


Sean kept nudging Alex, who looked unusually pale, and Hank had the beginnings of a grin on his face. Raven just looked exasperated. 

  


  


_I wonder what’s going on with the children._  

  


  


Erik glanced up at Charles from his food, smiling a little at him. _Nothing seems wrong to me. But if you really wanted to know, you’d look inside their little heads and see._

  


  


_That would be an obvious invasion of privacy and abuse of my abilities._  

 

Erik looked at Charles in disbelief. _What exactly are you doing this moment? Or any other moment I’m going about my day?_

  


  


Charles smiled fondly at Erik. “That’s different.”

  


  


Everyone at the table turned their heads towards Charles except for Erik, who was smiling behind his napkin.

  


  


“Charles, are you okay?” Raven asked and Charles smiled. “I was just in the middle of a conversation, don’t worry. What have you all been up to today? Did you do anything exciting on your day off?”

  


  


The children looked at each other before Sean nudged Alex again, roughly. The boy huffed, shoving Sean lightly before placing his palms flat on the table, looking at Erik. “Do you think you could train with me tomorrow?”

  


  


Erik’s eyebrows shot up, opening his mouth before Alex spoke again, in a rush. “If you can’t, you know, because you’re busy or you like to train alone or something—“

  


  


“No, I don’t mind.”

  


  


Alex stilled in his seat, his fingertips white as they gripped at the wooden table. “Oh. Oh, great then.”

  


  


Erik smirked, eyeing Alex closely. “Be up early. I like to go running before breakfast on training days.”

  


  


Erik was the first to stand from the table. As he passed Alex, he clapped him on the shoulder, hard. “Good man.”

  


  


Alex winced, smiling in a way that seemed strangely like a grimace. 

  


  
“In an hour?” Erik said with his eyes focused on Charles. Charles nodded at him and smiled. Erik returned it, for a moment, and then left.  
Charles turned to look at Alex, who was staring at his plate and pushing potatoes around with his fork.

  


  
“Alex?” Charles prompted gently. Alex lifted his head, muttering unintelligibly. Charles frowned, confused until Sean piped up, a wide grin on his face. “He lost a bet to Hank,” he said cheerfully and Hank ducked his head, chuckling quietly.

  


  


Charles sighed, getting up and squeezing Alex’s shoulder gently as passed. “You’ll be fine.” He paused before adding, “You should probably get to bed soon, though. Erik’s an early riser.”

  


Alex groaned, pushing his plate away and resting his head on the table. 

  


Erik had only been in his room less than twenty minutes before there was a knock on the door. He was sitting at his desk, staring out the window. He raised his hand and then the door knob was turning, the door being pulled open. When he turned around, Raven greeted him, her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail.

  


  


“Can I come in?” She was standing in the doorway, rocking back onto her heels. Erik rose from the chair, nodding at it. Raven smiled and took a seat. “I just was wondering if you could take it easy on Alex tomorrow.”

  


  
Erik chuckled and crossed his arms. “Alex is a big boy. You don’t think he can handle himself?”

  


  
Raven rolled her eyes. “Alex lost a bet. He’s terrified of you—don’t tell him I said that—and now he’s rationing out his things for if he doesn’t come back tomorrow.”

  


  


Erik rubbed at his chin, unable to hide his amusement. “He’s afraid of me? Good. Maybe that will instill some sort of discipline in him. What bet did he lose?”

  


  


“Just something stupid involving my brother.”

  


  


Erik stiffened, his expression instantly hardening. “What did he do to Charles?”

  


  


Raven tilted her head a little, looking at Erik curiously. “Nothing. Really, do you think I would let anyone do harm to him? You’re protective of him,” she said thoughtfully. 

  


  


“Your brother can be naïve at times. Sometimes he needs protecting.” 

  


  


“Don’t let him hear you say that. Or think it.” Raven grinned, leaning back in the chair with a sigh. “He’s a good guy.”

  


  


Erik raised an eyebrow at her and she blushed, laughing happily. “I just mean that… he’s so kind-hearted. He carries the weight of the whole world on his shoulders and doesn’t mention a thing about it. When we were little, I had a hard time—really bad. Sometimes I have trouble controlling my powers now, but then? All the time, I would slip up. My true form would start to show; the blue and the scales on bits of my skin.”

  


  


“There’s nothing wrong with how you look,” Erik said adamantly and Raven smiled ruefully, waving the comment away.

  


  


“Maybe so but little kids are just as cruel as they are when they grow up. One day my hand started turning blue and this little girl I was playing with said the most awful thing to me. She said, ‘Only aliens are blue. You must be an alien. Do you know what happens to aliens? We send them away to other planets so we don’t have to look at them. They have to be by themselves because nobody can love them.’ I cried that entire afternoon. And Charles, when he saw me, held me and I told him everything that that wicked little girl had said. I told him I wished I could change it, change that entire conversation so I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about it again and again, hearing her words. So he did that. He went into my head, found the memory, and tweaked it. When my hand turned blue, she said, ‘That’s neat! Can you show me how to do that?’” Raven shook her head, her eyes suddenly bright and glassy. “I knew it wasn’t real but it felt real and I focused on that so I could go to sleep.”

  


  


Erik frowned at her. “That helped you? Having that fantasy?”

  


  


Raven shrugged and nodded. “It just felt so nice to have a moment like that, where somebody other than Charles accepted me. But then, Charles accepts everybody, just how they are.”

  


  
Erik couldn’t disagree so he nodded and Raven stood, walking to the door. “Don’t forget, be nice to Alex.”

  


  


Erik hummed noncommittally. 

  


  


“Oh and thanks for saying that… about how I look.”

Erik nodded awkwardly and then the door shut and he was alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering, my dear reader, as to why the formatting of this chapter is generally awkward and unappealing, I'd like to inform you that I'm wondering the same thing. In fact, if you have any insight on it, that would be rather lovely. Any general or specific comments related to any other part of the story are also welcome, naturally.


	3. Chapter 3

 “I thought I’d have to remind you,” Charles said when he walked into the sitting room. Erik was sitting in his usual chair at the chess set, caressing the mane of his knight with his thumb. Erik lifted the small black piece, wiggling it at him.

“I’m well on my way to taking your king, Charles. I can’t be late for an operation like that.”

Charles chuckled and gripped Erik’s shoulder, briefly, as he moved to sit across from him. “Truer words haven’t been spoken, my friend.” It was Charles’ turn though, so Erik merely watched as pale, delicate fingers skimmed the tops of the white pieces searchingly before sliding one forward.

Erik cleared his throat and leaned forward, over the board, his fingertips tapping at the arm of the chair familiarly.

Erik stared down at the pieces for a few moments before his gaze shifted to Charles. He rolled his lips into his mouth. Charles watched him patiently.

“There’s a bet going on between the kids,” Erik murmured and Charles’ lips formed an ‘O’ before nodding.

“It’s about you,” Erik said eventually and his voice was overly neutral, almost disinterested.

Charles smirked and turned his gaze to the game again. Erik continued to stare at Charles, at the top of his head, at his shaggy hair that fell into his eyes when he leaned over the board.

“I know.”

Erik frowned, furrowed his eyebrows, tilted his head a little. Charles glanced up at Erik and chuckled, tapping his temple lightly.

Erik huffed and shoved his rook forward. A few moments passed before Charles heard the tapping of Erik’s fingers again and he raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well? What is it, then?” Erik asked; impatience and exasperation clear on his face. And Charles had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

“The children, mainly Hank and Alex, wagered on the nature of my relationship with Moira.”

Erik straightened. Blinked. Frowned. Coughed. “Your what?” he said finally.

Charles moved his bishop, capturing Erik’s rook, before leaning back in his chair and placing his hands on his lap. “Moira stopped by today to check up on us while you were out running. Hank and Alex had been speculating for some time, apparently, over the nature of my relationship with Moira. When she came, they asked her. Alex lost.”

Erik nodded. “Right. Alex lost—you’re being purposely vague, Charles. So tell me, then, what is the ‘nature of your relationship’ with our dear government official?” Erik rubbed at his chin, crossed his leg over the other; the picture of nonchalance.

“Moira’s been a great ally to us. The facilities and Intel she has provided us with have been tremendous; she is an attractive service to have, in our position.”

Erik raised his eyebrows. “So you find her attractive.”

Charles sputtered, opening his mouth before closing it quickly. He stared at Erik intently, pressing at the edge of his mind lightly, imploringly, only to feel a cold, slow pulse of darkness. Charles frowned, unused to the feeling with Erik and quickly retreated.

“You know that isn’t what I said but yes, she is attractive. Don’t you think so?”

“Attractive enough to fuck or attractive enough to date?”

Charles paused, as if considering and then shook his head. “Does that matter?”

“She’s pretty,” Erik conceded. “But she’s human.”

“So are we.”

“Not according to them.”

“What is this about,” Charles asked, finally.

“It’s something you would do; date her. Even if you didn’t particularly feel that way about her, you would, to make a statement.”

Charles paused, studied Erik’s face and shook his head slowly. “That isn’t what this is about.”

“Are you reading my mind, Charles?”

“No, my friend.  It’s on your face. Alex was disappointed to hear about the platonic nature of my friendship with Moira but you, well I didn’t think you would be concerned over it.”

Erik paused at that, rubbed his chin again and settled back into his seat. “I’m not,” he said finally. “I was merely curious. You seem the type who likes to go out, enjoy the company of a sweet, unsuspecting sorority girl, maybe. And you haven’t been.”

“No, I haven’t,” Charles agreed. He grinned suddenly. “I’ve been playing chess with you.”

Erik snorted but the corner of his lip was twitching, and he was back to assessing the board. “We need to get you out more.” The black knight pressed forward; ever closer to the white king.

 At five forty-five the next morning, Erik knocked on Alex’s door. No response. Erik clicked his tongue and turned the doorknob to find it locked. He hummed and knocked again, louder. No response. Erik stared down at the doorknob, wooden, and hummed again. He moved his hand over it but not touching, his fingers twitching slightly. He heard a click and smirked. Metal tumblers.

“Havoc, is it?” he said as he opened the door. No response. Erik sighed and flicked on the lights. A groan. “Ah, so you are awake.” The mass of blankets grumbled and shifted until Alex’s head popped out, one eye closed and the other heavily lidded.

“Time?” Alex mumbled, squinting with the one eye. Erik clicked his tongue again, glancing down at his watch. “Five forty-nine. You’re making me run late, kid. I let you sleep in.”

Alex dragged his hand over his face and made some sort of noise, murmuring to his self, Erik assumed, before he stuck his hand out at Erik, his fingers spread apart. “Just… five; put some clothes, k.” Erik heaved an exaggerated sigh, walking over to Alex’s closet. He tapped his foot loudly and crossed his arms as he scanned the line of clothes before spotting black sweat pants, a white undershirt. He flung his hand backwards and the clothes flew over Erik’s head, on the hangers, landing back on the bed.

“Three minutes, outside.” And Erik stalked outside, a small grin on his face.

Less than forty minutes later, Alex was holding on to a fence post, clinging to it and coughing. Erik wiped at his face with his sweat shirt, shifting from foot to foot as he watched Alex impatiently. “Are you ready yet?”

Alex sunk down to the grass, heaving and pointing shakily at Erik. “What are you, a machine?”

“It’s been less than five miles.”

“ _Five_ miles—I think I lost one of my lungs back there.”

“You’re exaggerating. We stopped a few times.”

“To do pushups!”

Erik knelt down, patting Alex’s back in a way that seemed more like shoving with the way his whole body shifted forward. “You’ll be fine. We’re just warming up. I have some ideas to test out your abilities after breakfast.”

Alex chuckled, high-pitched and almost frantic before dropping his head into his lap with a groan.

 

Late in the afternoon, Erik was stretched out on his bed, leaning against the headboard with a newspaper in his lap. He heard a knock and a soft, “May I come in?” Erik raised his hand and the door opened, revealing a rather distressed looking Charles. Erik straightened immediately, setting the newspaper beside him and beckoning him inside. “Charles? You look distraught, come and sit.” Charles sat down on the side of the bed, for a moment, before standing and raking his fingers through his hair. He turned suddenly to face Erik.

“Raven’s terribly upset with me. She practically chucked me out of her room, slammed the door in my face… Erik, I didn’t even say anything cruel. In fact, I was trying to approach the matter with as much finesse as I could.”

Erik furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What was your row about?”

“It wasn’t a row. Hank engineered a cure and suddenly she’s against it and I was just—would it be all right if I just showed you?

Erik looked at Charles in surprise, hesitated and then nodded.

 _Charles sat at Raven’s desk and was looking up at her while she leaned against it, her arms crossed. “Can you believe he wanted me to inject myself? He told me I was pretty ‘how I look now’—normal. He calls it a cure. A cure, Charles, as if we’re sick, broken. We don’t need fixing. Why should I change? What is he thinking?”_

 _Charles sighed and reached for Raven’s hand, blue, and squeezed it. “Hank wasn’t trying to be hurtful, I’m sure. He just… wants to fit in. It’s easier than being different Raven, you of all people know that. And I remember a certain young woman who used to wish every year on her birthday to look normal. Do you remember?”_

 _Raven pulled her hand away, her eyes narrowed and desperate as she spoke. “Yes, I remember! I remember being insecure and uncomfortable everywhere I went; never feeling at home in my own skin. Do you know how awful that feels, Charles? I want to be myself and like it, for once. Tell me there’s nothing wrong with how I look, big brother. Don’t you think I’m beautiful as I am…?”_

 _Charles hesitated and frowned, reaching for her again. Raven pulled away from Charles as if burned, shaking her head. “You don’t—you think I’m ugly, don’t you?”_

 _Charles stood up from the chair, alarmed and flustered. “What? No, of course not, you’re—you’re a lovely young woman. Any man would be lucky to have you.”_

 _“Just not like this.” She said bitterly, accusingly. Charles shook his head, desperate but unsure what to say. Raven pointed at the door, her eyes wet. “Out,” she muttered shakily and when Charles didn’t make to move, she grabbed his sleeve, tugging him towards the door and pushing him outside. She swallowed thickly, disappointment evident in her face. “I always knew people could be cruel but never you, Charles.” And then the door shut in his face._

Erik blinked rapidly, rubbing at the side of his head. Charles bit his lip, reaching out to touch Erik’s forearm lightly. “Are you all right, my friend?”

Erik smiled a little in reassurance. “Fine; just never experienced anything like that.”

“What do I do, Erik? Was I wrong?” And Charles looked young then, boyish and lost.

“Charles… I’m really not very apt with these matters. You’re the only friend I have. But… you could have been a little more reassuring, I think. When a woman asks you if you think she’s beautiful, I’m fairly certain there’s only one answer they’re looking for.”

Charles groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking, clearly. Of course she’s beautiful. I was just thinking, what do I tell her? ‘Yes, you’re beautiful as you are, but you need to keep it hidden.’”

Erik raised an eyebrow at Charles and his tone suddenly changed, not quite accusing but nearly censuring. “Well why does she need to keep it hidden?”

Charles looked at Erik and frowned. “Erik, she can’t walk the streets like that. Nothing good would come of it. People won’t respond kindly to her appearance, you know that.”

“No but they should. Raven is a perfect example of what the future holds, Charles. The humans need to accept it or be prepared to be phased out.”

Charles sighed wearily. “I should go to her, say something. Apologize or give her something she’d like.”

Erik shook his head. “Sit, Charles. She’s not going to forgive you while she’s still angry. Go to her in the morning and put it out of your head for now.”

Charles looked at Erik uncertainly before sitting back on the bed beside Erik, leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. Erik turned his head to watch Charles, noticing the rise and fall of his chest and the way his lips parted when he exhaled.

 _Enjoying the view, my friend?_ The corners of Charles’ lips were turned upwards.

Erik snorted, shifting on the bed. _You look tired._

 _I am tired._

The two stayed quiet and Erik eventually closed his eyes as well. He felt dangerously close to dozing off when Charles spoke, amusement laced in his voice. “Alex came to me after your training session.”

Erik smirked but kept his eyes closed. “Oh? Does he want to quit training with you and let me whip him into shape?”

“He says you threw knives at him,” Charles murmured, his voice laced with laughter and incredulity.

“He’s clearly melodramatic. I threw one knife. And he burned a hole right through it. It was great.”

“He’s terrified of you. They’re teenagers, Erik.”

“That’s the time to do it, then, isn’t it? It’s when they’re most impressionable. You can mold a person, make them great, with the right amount of discipline.”

Charles opened his eyes then and shifted onto his side, facing Erik. Erik glanced over at Charles while still on his back and sighed when he noticed his somber expression. “I’m not in need of a therapy session, Charles.”

Charles reached out towards Erik slowly and Erik watched, uncertain but accepting as Charles touched his hair lightly. Erik’s eyes shut briefly, exhaling slowly and tilting his head. Charles pressed at Erik’s mind and felt the recognizable slow pulse, buzzing in an electric sort of hum that sent warmth through Charles, into his chest and the pit of his stomach. His fingers slid through Erik’s hair methodically, absently and Erik let him, silent and calm.

“I recall you acquiescing to my request,” Erik murmured languidly and Charles eased into Erik’s mind for further explanation, submerging himself under the surface he’d been floating over.

 _To let it go, to stay away from those parts of me._

Charles searched Erik’s face, strained with creases in his forehead and his eyes firmly shut.

 _Look at me._ A request, not a command and Erik’s eyes were blank, schooled.

“I know you.” Charles wandered deeper, cautious but determined, and drifted into the dim recesses of Erik’s mind, not observing but merely _existing_ , resting there without inspecting and simply feeling, allowing the throbbing aura of guilt, betrayal, helplessness, want, agony, bereavement to engulf him.

Erik swallowed, breathing heavily as he reached out blindly to grip Charles’ shirt, clutching it rigidly. Charles’ eyes burned with the effort of keeping his eyes clear, his breaths shallow and forced as his grip tightened for purchase, keeping him from completely sinking into the depths of Erik’s mind.

 _You aren’t alone._ Erik shuddered and Charles pushed further, to the core of the dark overcasts and closing in. Erik inhaled sharply, flattened his hand against Charles’ chest as a stifled sob began to escape Erik’s lips only to be caught in his throat. Charles retreated then, overwhelmed, but kept his fingers entangled in Erik’s hair, behind his ear.

They stared at each other, both trembling and panting, and Erik spoke hoarsely. “I’ve never known such relief.”

Charles shifted his body forward, closer but not touching, and exhaled shakily. “Never alone, my friend,” and Erik slid his hand from Charles’ chest down his arm to his wrist, gripping it firmly.

Neither moved the rest of the afternoon.


	4. Chapter 4

Up to now, Charles and Hank had only been compiling lists of mutants— their ages, addresses, abilities. They had yet to recruit anyone, Erik had thought. But here he was, about to go out for his early morning jog, and there was an unfamiliar face staring back at him in the hall.

She was short and blonde; wore glasses-- cute, in a disheveled, I’ve-just-been-fucked sort of way.

All right, so perhaps not a recruit. In fact, perhaps not a mutant. More likely a one night stand.

The stand-off continued as they stared at each other, the young woman looking every bit as if she’d been found out, although he was unsure why since he wasn’t anyone’s father and he wasn’t that old, thank you.

After a few more tense moments, he nodded at her and continued walking past her; her shoulders sagged, an audible sigh ringing in his ears even outside, his shoes pounding at the pavement.

By the time breakfast came, Erik had figured it out—comprehended but could not believe. Charles had asked him what he should do to make it up to Raven. Erik had remembered vaguely that when his father was desperate to get back into his mother’s good graces after a row, he would take her to dinner. He’d been quite small then and the memory was less likely his own than a memory of his mother telling him about it, cheeky and affectionate.

So they postponed their round of chess and instead, Charles had taken Raven out. Erik snorted. Obviously, he had taken her out and brought someone else back—a charming sorority girl, he was certain.

Erik ate violently, stabbing at his blood sausage and focusing his eyes on his plate. Multiple pairs of eyes were on him, he felt it, but determinedly ignored them.

 _Rough evening, my friend? Little sleep?_

Erik’s eyes snapped up to Charles, who was eyeing him calculatingly. Erik found it alarmingly difficult to keep the disdain out of his expression and out of the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t keep the snark out.

 _I slept through the night. Did you?_

Charles blinked and frowned, opening his mouth before seeming to realize that they were not alone but in fact surrounded by their charges, who were divided between openly staring at the two of them and appearing overly interested in their food. Hank in particular was so focused that he had cut his sausage into tiny pieces and had begun to arrange them into what appeared to be chemical compound formations.

 _Would you mind speaking with me in private, Erik?_

The two ended up in Charles’ room, much to Erik’s chagrin, with Charles sitting on the bed and Erik standing near the door with his arms crossed.

“What’s troubling you, Erik?” Charles had the concerned look of a parent or a mentor, leaning over himself with his palms on his knees. His expression was open, curious. Erik restrained from rolling his eyes.

“You were in my head, Charles. Why bother acting as if you need to ask?”

Charles raised an eyebrow at Erik and straightened. “You’re right. I don’t need to; if I wanted, I could just dig into your head and know exactly what has irked you. But I would not invade your privacy, my friend, and I believe you know that.”

Erik stuffed his hands into his slacks, shrugging with forced casualty. “I’m hardly irked. I just saw something rather _interesting_ this morning.” He paused and took one hand out of his pocket to gesture vaguely. “It isn’t my business; of course, I just think it’s a bit irresponsible. If the children had seen—although really, as long as it doesn’t become a habit…”

Charles frowned and furrowed his eyebrows before shaking his head. “Erik, excuse me if I’m being brash, but I have no bloody clue as to what you’re referring.” _And since when do you concern yourself over the children?_

Erik exhaled through his nose loudly and counted to three in his head. “The young lady you brought home last night. She was creeping through the house in an attempt to leave unseen, I assume by your askance, and I spotted her on my way outside.”

The look on Charles’ face was one Erik had never previously encountered and if it were not for the situation, he would find it amusing. He looked, for once, dumbfounded. Charles stared at Erik for a long moment before speaking slowly. “Are you implying that I brought a date to the house after an evening with my sister?”

Erik frowned in frustration. “No, I’m implying that you found a drunken university girl and fucked her after an evening with your sister.”

Charles straightened completely, indignant and confused at once. “Erik, I did not. If you must know, which it seems you must, I took Raven to her favorite pub and then she suggested we grab a few drinks. I was only there a short time before she ran into an acquaintance and Raven shooed me, told me we were fine, and sent me home. I was reluctant but she insisted and assured me she would safely make it back on her own.”

Erik gazed at Charles speculatively, wishing for a moment that their abilities were reversed, before shaking his head. “I know what I saw.”

 _May I?_

 __Erik hesitated, for once wary, but nodded after a moment and Charles seemed to linger at the front of his mind, his presence less of a caress and more of a search. Still, it was gentle and Erik’s shoulders eased their stiffness.

 _Blonde. Short. Glasses. Tan._

 __Charles pulled out of Erik’s mind abruptly and Erik raised his hand to his head instinctually, rubbing at his temple.

“Suddenly ring a bell?” Erik was torn between smugness and exasperation.

“Yes,” Charles replied and wet his lips. “That was my sister’s friend.”

And suddenly Erik felt foolish. No, senseless, asinine. Absurd. A mere sleepover, then? He had been certain, with the appearance of the girl and her clothing—her nervous, contrite attitude—had he imagined it all?

Charles looked weary then, hesitant and a little nervous himself. “No, Erik. You are not mistaken; not entirely, at any rate.”

Erik raised his eyebrows and Charles continued, his tone mild. “Raven enjoys the company of the fairer sex in addition to our own.”

 _Oh. Oh, well then. That’s… news._

Charles quirked his lips for the first time since the conversation had begun. “She prefers to keep it private.” And Erik understood the unspoken request there, the trust Charles had placed in Erik not only to accept the information but to keep it to himself.

“She has commendable taste,” Erik murmured, his lips twitching. Charles shared in the humor, chuckling briefly before he turned serious again.

“You feel no distaste towards my sister?” Erik realized then how important Raven was to Charles, how much he felt the need to protect her. He also realized that Charles valued his support.

“Raven’s one hell of a woman. We share many of the same opinions.”

“I’ve noticed that; Raven could use someone who understands her.” The unspoken mutuality of that statement was not left unnoticed.

“She told me what you did for her as a child; fiddled with her memories.”

Charles was about to open his mouth, perhaps to defend himself, when Erik quickly spoke again. “It was… kind of you to do that, in a manipulative sort of way. Perhaps when I was that young, I would have appreciated a reprieve of that nature.”

“Raven does not approve of what I did although she did at the time. I resurfaced the original memory for her a few years ago—it only fueled her bitterness and insecurity.”

“But it’s reality, not some sugared fabrication that affects today, Charles. She knows that.”

“As do I,” Charles responded with a wry smile. “Despite what you may think, we too share many of the same opinions, my friend, just on a different spectrum.”

  
Erik merely hummed, signifying his skepticism, but Charles remained quiet. Erik’s eyes swept over Charles, who sported a crisp, tucked in, button down shirt despite only having a date with Hank and Cerebro, and couldn’t prevent a smile. Charles met Erik’s gaze and his lips quirked at the corners.

The children had gathered in the sitting room, with Hank in the center; he rubbed at his glasses with his shirt, glancing at the others almost anxiously. Silence continued and Hank shifted awkwardly on the couch.

“What?” He said finally and Sean broke into a grin, as if he’d won some type of game.

“You’re meeting with the professor today, aren’t you? More runs with Cerebro?”

Hank placed his glasses back on his face and blinked a few times. “He said he’s up to it, so yeah, I think so. Why?”

Alex flung himself from the floor onto the couch next to Hank and threw an arm around him. “What’s that list look like, bigfoot?”

Hank shrugged off Alex’s arm. “We’ve started dividing names into regions to plan out professor’s road trip.”

“Finally,” Sean grinned. “I wonder how long Erik can tolerate us all in the same space before he starts throwing knives again—“

“We’re not all going, Sean.” Raven was stretched out across the arm chair, her legs resting over the arm. “It’ll be Charles and Erik. We’ll be stuck here.” She shrugged, red locks twirled around her blue fingers. “But we’ll have the house to ourselves.”

Alex and Sean shared grins before Hank stood, smoothing his slacks. “Yeah and if anything happens, the professor will know just by looking at us. So I’ll be in my lab, free from trouble.”

“Really? Then who will keep us out of it? You, being the responsible one, will be expected to keep the place in order.”

Hank paused and frowned at Alex’s toothy smile, only to jump when a large hand gripped his shoulder from behind.

“Not so; I’m holding you personally responsible for the manner of this place while Charles and I are gone, Alex.”

Alex stared past a very still, pale Hank and into the eyes of Erik, who was looking positively smug. “Me,” Alex said flatly. He tilted his head before shrugging and his trademark grin was back in place. “I’m in charge, then. Got it.”

“This is my house, dimwit. You’re not in charge.” Alex turned to glare at Raven but her scaly blue hand only waved in response.

Hank glanced back at Erik and then at his peers, who were bickering still, and scuffed his shoe against the floor. “I should probably go meet up with the professor; I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“I’ll go with you,” Erik said and patted Hank on the shoulder in such a way that could only be described as awkward if not a little intimidating. The children were still engrossed in conversation although Raven caught their departure. She met Erik’s gaze for only a moment, just long enough to catch his familiar ghost of a smile. The corner of Raven’s mouth lifted and she promptly turned back to Alex, flicking him off.

By lunch time, Hank and Charles were still busy in the lab. Charles had a horrid migraine, Erik could tell, but ‘ _It’s nothing serious, I assure you’_ would enter into his mind every time he opened his mouth to mention it.

 _You must be hungry, Erik. Why don’t you grab something for yourself?_

Erik eyed Charles, with Cerebro planted firmly on his head, and walked over to the metal bars Charles was clutching.

 _Trying to get rid of me?_ Erik thought while resting his hand on the bars next to Charles’ hand.

“Hank, would you give me a moment to rest up? That last round was a bit trying for me, I’m afraid.”

“Right, of course, Professor. I’ll just… uh, I’ll go to my room and grab a few things.”

Charles smiled kindly at Hank and waited until he heard the door click shut loudly before turning his gaze back to Erik, who continued to stare at him. Charles returned the gaze with fascination. _You may just be the only person who communicates with me like this._

Erik’s lips turned up for only a moment, pleased, before he shrugged his shoulders. “I find it intriguing, I admit. Your power has always impressed me.”

“But it’s beyond that, Erik,” Charles said and his eyes were bright and his face was open. “You participate in it instead of acting a spectator. It makes it feel… normal.” Charles glanced down at the metal bar beneath their skin.

“You could warp it, mold it and shape it into anything.”

“Yes,” Erik agreed.

“We’re not so different. We share the same craft; we just work in a different media.”

Erik paused, unused to the concept of such kinship and companionable talk, but nodded still.

“You find me intriguing,” Charles said after a moment and although Erik had stopped looking at his face, he could nearly see the delight—the near smugness— evident in Charles’ twitching lips. That wouldn’t do.

“I recall saying I found your ability intriguing, Charles.” Erik looked up from their hands which were resting beside each other still and noticed that Charles had a peculiar smile on his face.

“Yes, you did _say_ that, my friend—in words, at any rate.” _But in here, it seemed to be directed less at my mind and more at… the rest of me._

 __Erik tightened his grip on the metal beneath his fingers and felt it relaxing, unusually pliable under the pads of his thumbs as he stroked the bar absently. For a moment, his finger almost slipped into it but he quickly tugged it back.

 _You’re intriguing too, Erik. The way your abilities can almost consume you, they’re so powerful._

Erik wet his lips, torn between staying quiet and chancing a response which, knowing himself, would be entirely dry and biting.

Charles grinned openly. “I’m certain you could teach me a thing or two.”

“Is that right, _professor?_ ” And Erik would be damned if he was going to acknowledge the grin on his own face.

Charles laughed and leaned forward, staring with such concentration that it seemed as if he was inspecting Erik’s face. Erik stilled but remained in his place, his knuckles white from the harsh grip on the metal.

Charles nodded suddenly and Erik frowned, confused and curious. “Perhaps we should increase our training, Erik. Focus on control.” Charles was smiling still, his eyes bright.

“Control,” Erik repeated slowly, as if testing out the feel of the word on his lips. He certainly had a fondness for it, ached for it at times.

 _In here._ As if Erik needed the clarity. “Right, I suppose I could improve on that.”

Charles did not pull away, his only movement in his fingers as he spread them out across the metal. The sides of his hands briefly grazed across Erik’s and Charles glanced down. “Perhaps I could too, my friend.”

Erik wasn’t concerned about clarity.


End file.
